March Tenth Sunrise
dizain
waking in the dark from uneasy dreams I feel a kafkaesque anxiety come over me as if I know not seems, (but I know I do, in perplexity in a temple built of uncertainty) the tradewinds of uncanny servitude bring sunrise as a broken interlude like this poem propping up the ceiling and this strange and lovely beatitude of dawn undoing my fear-fraught feeling
Great pictures, and a great little poem to go with them. It had the beat, the rhythm, of some of Dylan's early songs, and I particularly liked the last five lines - especially this couplet:
"the tradewinds of uncanny servitude
bring sunrise as a broken interlude"
Keep up the good work, my friend.
Absolutely loved this one